


When you will leave

by Seol_A



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora is a soldier, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Parenting, Catra had some growth (not height wise but still), Catra is a shop owner, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mara is dead, Rating May Change, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:46:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25656124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seol_A/pseuds/Seol_A
Summary: Catra had seen many soldiers come and go to her flower shop, especially on Decoration days, carrying on their shoulders more than backpacks and rifles.But having one to become her closest friend was never expected, not after what she went through before.Adora never had a place of her own.The broken pieces of her family crushed into dust at this point, the conditions in the army were unbearable and her friends were great - yet it's seemed impossible to make them understand.. just about everything.Finding a place to rest, even if it's only for a short while, was exactly what she got when she met Catra.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 52





	1. Flowers For Our Soldiers

Hot summer mornings, like those that warmed up the breeze for the past weeks, were Catra’s favorite.  
She loved waking up to soft nuzzling under her jaw, accompanied by deep purrs.  
To stretch her no longer sore legs that basked in the sun from the tall windows while enjoying the chilling AC. 

She loved the quiet before the storm.

“I’m up, I’m up.” Catra murmured around a smile she couldn’t contain, her nails scratched lightly Melog’s ear when she finally gave in to the persistent cat, opened her eyes to another long day.

Melog stopped only to jump off his owner’s chest to the floor, stretched contently his long legs forward and finished with a small head shake.  
He meowed shortly when Catra shifted to sit on the sofa too slowly for his taste, waiting to lead his disoriented owner directly to the most important responsibility humans had.  
But she was busy brushing her fingers through her hair – slightly surprised how it reached to shoulder length already. 

No need to see the time, the sun line she was unfamiliar with on mid-week told her she woke up late, and the beach in front of her house seemed occupied accordingly to near-noon. 

With another meow, though less trying-to-be-cute one, Catra huffed all the air she held after good 6 hours of sleep. She rolled her eyes before she mocked a glare. “You’re getting fat, you know.” She pointed at him accusingly when she got up. The snob fur-ball turned his butt at her with tail up high and showed off the so-called fat in all its glory as he strutted to his _half empty bowl._  
That little shit. 

As if on cue her phone vibrated over the counter, meaning her peace and quiet was officially done.  
It’s like they know when she wakes up.  
Catra stifled a groan, head lolled back heavily. She debated if she should just fake dead, even if this idea will short-live. Her cat was a snitch and she was too easy to find by those who regularly looked for her.

Defeated, she barely spared her phone a glance and swiped up to answer.  
“What happened now?” skipping the pleasantries, Catra held the phone between her shoulder and her ear to scoop Melog’s breakfast.

“Good morning!” Damn, that voice was crazy giddy to deal with first thing after waking up and Catra couldn’t stop her eyes from shutting at the expected blinding brightness.

“Mhm. Morning.” Catra padded across the wooden floor, poured Melog food into his _half full goddammit bowl_ and signed as he started eating slowly. Smile pushed against her lips. She kept repeating in her head to be nice and sat on the floor, taking the phone into her hand and brought her knees up. “Can it wait until I’ll drink my coffee at least?” Her cat’s ears perked when she stroked his back in smooth motion.

Scorpia’s tone thankfully dialed down. “Sorry, boss. There’s a problem with the shipment – again - and I think that skinny guy from last week, uh.. Kane? Kipp? Kelly? Can’t remember. Anyway, he’s having a meltdown and it freaks the costumers out. I have too many orders right now, Perfuma is, uh, late and the new guy is no better then what’s-his-name. I think he doesn’t know yet how to manage with big orders. We should-”

She didn’t mean to, but Catra was only half listening at some point. She took deep breath in.  
By the time Scorpia went on explaining in detail why no one can deal with such scrawny hot mess like Kyle, that only a glance was enough to spiral him into some existential crisis, Catra put her phone on speaker, tossed it on her neatly made bed and got dressed.  
“I’m on my way.” Better to sound like she’s doing them a favor, even if it’s past the time she supposed to be at work.  
“But I want a cup of coffee scorching my hand by the time I’m kicking him out.” 

“You got it!”

* * *

When Catra went down the two flight of stairs into the shop, she barely finished tying her red bandana around her hair before telling Kyle to shut up, commanding Bow handle their waiting costumers instead of acting all Mister Rogers to a trembling man-child and directed confused old couple to the lilies section.

She expected the place to be packed today, but not starting from this early in the morning – well, later than 10, that’s for sure.  
Perfuma seem to think the same as she stumbled through the wide-open glass doors, cheeks bit rosy from the heat outside.

“ _Wow_.” She mouthed to Catra and took off her saddle bag carefully from her shoulder over her wide brimmed hat.  
Catra passed by few people caught up in an emotional exchange on which flowers they should buy and she took a mental note to check on them. Everyone tends to get a little carried away on Etheria’s Memorial Day.  
Not that the day after would be any easier albeit from very different reasons.

“I know. Do me a favor and deal with Kyle, please? I need caffeine after yesterday. Still hadn’t recovered.” Catra crossed her arms calmly as possible when Kyle’s screeching whining was like a well matching soundtrack to her reasoning.  
“And I might kill him in my delicate state.”

“I’m so sorry, my cacti were depressed again and-“

“That’s fine.” Catra held her hands up, then pointed at Kyle arguing with Lonnie and already on verge of tears.  
If Perfuma could handle five years ago Catra, she can handle anything. “I hope they are okay. Tell me all about it later. just go. ..Thank you.” She added quietly.

Perfuma beamed widely, gently squeezed Catra’s shoulder in gratitude and punched the clock, visibly readying herself to deal with the sobbing mess. As far Catra could tell from years of knowing her friend/co-owner, her patience’s limits might seem non-existent.  
However, they both weren’t vastly far off from each other on the empathetic spectrum. Her kindness gets thrown out of the window along with the person who disrespected her, so Kyle zips his mouth shut faster than his tantrum bursts when that woman, the epitome of Kumbaya sing along, comes into view.

Perfuma just knew how to let go faster and solve peoples’ hysterical chaos better.  
It was admirable.

This is probably why Scorpia allowed herself to stop from making endless orders of coffee and stare at her girlfriend. Then she got caught staring by her boss. 

Wearing shy smile, Scorpia waved her hand and gestured that Catra’s coffee is set at the office, like always.  
Catra simply shook her head and chuckled, helped out few costumers then left to desk work, not without being interrupted every now and then until the retail rush passed. 

Peeking at the monitors, they were left with a couple costumers wandering around aimlessly. Everything was quiet again.

Catra took down her reading glasses, rubbed her temples. She stared at the pile of papers she finished going through, now sporting “Plumeria” stamps in organized stacks near the two cups of coffee she had.  
On the other side was cup of lukewarm tea she couldn’t touch from all the work, and by it crumbs of healthy cookies Bow baked with his dads as he dramatically urged Catra to put something in her system.  
Thank god they didn’t taste healthy. 

As for eating a real meal, perhaps it’s time. She picked her phone that all the while was faced down behind her, away from the spilling hazard on her tiny desk. Two thirty in the afternoon and still no messages from the person she expected to have at least one by now. 

_Well, lunch it is_. Better go at it to avoid Bow’s overly motherly concern.

A muffled knock on her door pulled her attention up. “Miss King?” speaking of the nicest devil ever.  
Bow leaned in cautiously. His hand held the door’s frame, covered with fresh new cuts; a tell every new worker gets in her flower shop.  
“Is it a bad time?”

“It’s always a bad time to call me Miss King, Bow. I’m only one year older than you.”

Bow’s chuckle sounded lighter. Maybe with time he will lose all this unnecessary stress he gets everytime they talk privately. “Catra.” He corrected, drummed his fingers on the door. “Is it still okay if I’ll leave early?” 

“Yup. Everyone had their last-minute purchases anyway.” Bow opened the door wider as Catra got up with intent to finally leave the stuffy room.

“Oh, and Mrs. Goldstein called again about her order for-“

“Her son’s memorial service. I remember. We have extra band-aids in the break room’s cabinet, by the way.” Catra nodded at his hands and walked towards Scorpia.  
“Don’t forget gloves next time, I don’t care if the place is packed.” Bow was about to answer, stopped by a costumer who wanted to make bouquet arrangement. 

“Thank you, sir. Have a nice day.” Scorpia said to her last costumer so lively as if she wasn’t parroting the same phrase since eight-thirty.  
Catra could never stop being impressed by it. She leaned on the clean counter, watched Bow presenting the varied options they had with much more confidence since he was hired a month ago. 

Now it was possible to hear the low R&B music and consider their best strategy utilizing their moments of quiet.  
The limestone floor was covered with sand from the beach, leaves and floral stems spilled from the counter among the usual clutter.  
Perfuma already begun cleaning, having idle conversation with the costumer’s wife about orchid care. 

“We might close soon for an hour to stock up. Do some cleaning. Stop staring at our girlfriend’s ass.”  
Slowly, Catra peered at the tall woman that hadn’t reacted other than having the goofiest grin ever, mindlessly wiping the porcelain out of her washed espresso cup. 

Throwing stirrers at her forehead was ought to be so she won’t make a fool out of herself. That’s what best friends do.

Scorpia blinked in surprised, laughed nervously from getting caught again before an idea struck her. “Oh! I know!”  
In her eagerness she nearly cast away the cup and almost hit Catra with the towel at her other hand.  
Catra avoided from getting slapped by the dirty rag effortlessly. Whenever Scorpia’s around, it’s better to keep safe distance from her buffy yet incredibly agile arms.  
“We should eat lunch and talk about the event tomorrow night!” At Catra’s dry look, she continued with the same force. “Com’n Wildcat. You haven’t eaten anything and we have so much to talk about – you haven’t told me what songs you want to sing.”

“I did tell you. It’s called ‘I stabbed my friend because she loves Karaoke and I’m, a normal person, not’. It John Lennon’s.”

“You have a lovely voice,” Scorpia, either trained in ignoring Catra’s sarcasm for the greater good or just bad at listening, kept going with glint in her brown eyes. “Remember when we watched the episode with Brittany and San-“

“No, and neither do you.”

“Bow!”

Dread crawled up her spin. Turning to the marching newcomer, an emerging spark was like sand thrown into Catra’s eyes.  
Ah, yes. Catra’s new problem to her collection. A pink-purple glistered hair attached to a little entitled loudmouth who acted in like she owns the place kind of problem. 

Glimmer.  
She came by at least twice a week, made Catra reconsider putting Bow and herself on the same shift since it became an inevitable misfortune.  
Given Perfuma excessive relaxed approach at training new employees, she voted against it eventually, ended powering through his very vibrant friend presence who consistently gave their business “helpful” tips no one asked for.  
But, of course, they should be taken extremely seriously, apparently, from someone who hadn’t finish her business degree yet and had no real experience in the field. 

It dragged countless bickering between the two, so the aftermath when she finally left.. was like glitter in Catra’s head impossible to get rid of, forming colorful explosive migraines. 

Bow just finished selling their pre-arranged bouquet, shushed the girl and glanced at Perfuma apologetically as Glimmer pulled him possessively away. For whatever weird reason she didn’t want them to exist too close together.  
It didn’t seem like why she was doing so this time, though, based on her ecstatic glee.

“Advil?” Scorpia offered quietly and was answered with light grunt, heard Perfuma huff when she joined them. Sure enough sympathetic brow arching expressions were shared above Catra’s head but she was busy soothing the developing headache, thinking happy thoughts with not so friendly actions. 

“Oh my god, guys!” Perfuma exclaimed suddenly, made Catra slid off her hand from her face, abandoned her failed efforts.  
“Do you know who she is?”

Catra tilted her head in confusion. _Glimmer? Wish I hadn’t_. but when she checked what the fuss was about, someone else walked in. 

Etheria’s soldier, uniform all smooth and tucked with hefty backpack that seemed like nothing on her shoulders.  
The other duffle bag she held fell next to her boots the moment Bow rushed in with colliding hug, barely made her move an inch. 

“That’s She-Ra!” Explained Perfuma, lowered her enthusiasm to hushed excitement. It probably wasn’t aimed to ease on Socrpia’s envious glare, though. Catra’s confusion multiplied visibly - they have seen many soldiers today and in general. Perfuma huffed again with amusement.  
“She’s like.. a wonder soldier. Everyone keeps posting about her like crazy on fitness communities,” On that note, Catra made it clear she has lost her. The only fitness she did daily was loop jumping and summersaults since her very first costumer.

“Right, Adora Gray-something.” Snapping out of her blunt disapproval, Scorpia expression relaxed instantly, unable hold any negative emotion for long. “She’s a combat soldier, I think,” Evidently, a rifle was hung on the soldier’s side, facing down.

Catra left them to their talking, called Bow as she remembered no one was in the shop but them.  
Bow’s head lifted and _Jesus is he crying?_  
He snapped back to his senses, parted from what turned to be quite extensive group hug. The soldier took the chance to readjust her bag, spoke shortly to Glimmer who frowned at the interference with – what a surprise – shiny, watery stare.  
“Lock the doors. Then you’re free to go.”

He nodded eagerly and beamed to Adora before doing what he was told. The woman finally looked up from Glimmer, her expression neutral in comparison to her friends, pleasant.  
“Actually If it’s okay, I’d like to make a purchase, Ma’am.”  
Adora came closer, her bright blue eyes revealed momentarily with the afternoon light sneaking under her dark-olive cap. Her pony tail rested on her backpack strap, slipped down as she readjusted it again.  
“Won’t be long, promise.” Her voice turned to a murmur as she gazed up behind Catra in awe, noticing their hidden treasure. 

Everyone reacted like that on their first encounter with “Plumeria” and Catra simply loved it.

Sure, the planetary variety they held was enough to make anyone appreciate it, green thumb devotee or not – mainly the rainforest room displayed in mid of the shop, now its tall windows currently darken and all doors locked. It wasn’t an appropriate day to maintain it.  
But the real show-stealer was at the other half of the place.  
Scorpia’s small brewed-coffee stand and the library, mostly hidden behind half wall with a sign inviting to rest at “Black Garnet Coffee Shop ”.  
Given the drapes blocked the sun, it was hard to spot from afar the tall, wide bookcases, adorned with plants that barely had room between their generous reading collection.

Going by her intuition, Catra assumed she won’t stall. She knew when costumers were about to take their sweet time over the same roses and asking the same questions.  
“You can put your things next the counter,” Catra pointed at the spot with her black long nail, causing the soldier look back at her.  
“And call me Catra.”

“Adora.” She greeted politely and thanked her, carefully took off her backpack to not break anything as she went back to her impatient friends. Catra shook her head and turned around, jumped out of her skin as Scorpia ambushed her, no longer behind her usual spot. She felt the words personal space rolling on her tongue but she bit it from the crazy jumpscare the sneaky, big woman just gave her.

“So, lunch?”

Catra stared at her, then at her watch and sighed.  
“Sure. I’ll set the table. Tell Per to keep an eye.” 

Going back up to her apartment, Catra unlocked Melog’s cat door and went back down. He’s probably napping and join them at will for his quick round of attention whoring pats later on. She wished she could curl up with him for an hour.

Instead, Catra passed extra shorter flight of stairs, took her key from her back pocket to open the greenhouse’s door.  
It was hot as it was outside, if not hotter. They had small space reserved for employees at the corner with a picnic bench, two portable air coolers, mini fridge and crappy laptop that was solely good for playing music. Scorpia’s modest kitchenette entrance was visible under arch of vines and flowers. On the door was plastered crappy drawing Catra did years ago, an angry face that says not to enter.

Sometimes they would favor eating at the library area, but on summertime it involved opening the windows.  
And opening the windows meant ants and annoying people poking their rude noses asking why they can’t go through the locked doors.  
Indeed, an ancient mystery only a Chosen One with savior complex will be able to solve. 

She changed Perfuma’s R&B to soft rock albums, cleaned the table and hummed with the song that came up, remembering all of them from their first seconds.  
Her mind was occupied with today’s sales she barely managed hear Scorpia joining with few cold dishes she prepared fanned over her arm.  
“I think Bow needs you to do discount for ‘She-Ra’,” Scorpia adding the noble title gibing spice was so out of character that Catra’s eyebrows shoot up and she snickered at the unexpected pettiness. “Come on! That’s-!”

Catra backed away with false “I didn’t say anything” shrug, followed shortly by a teasing smirk that doubled Scorpia’s frustration. 

Perfuma was in mid heated conversation with Glimmer (of course), arranging Adora’s pick – yellow and faint pink Gladioli. Ah.  
Interesting pick to make so quickly.  
“All good?” she asked at Bow’s nervous tapping at the register’s touch screen. _Chill, my guy. It’s not a panic button_. 

“Uh, n-no, I forgot the employee discount code and, well –“ He peered at the bickering girls. Normally, Catra wouldn’t let employees use that code alone. Bow was an exception as on his second day in he was traumatized from accidently killing a bee.  
Also, Perfuma counted on his “aura”, whatever that meant.

Adora was by her two bags, bit uncomfortable from indirectly creating a problem. Her hands rested at her sides as Catra approached, like a good soldier bracing himself for his commander’s disdain.  
“That’s fine. It’s on the house.”

The blonde blinked at her and Bow’s shoulders sagged in relief. 

“No, no, I want to pay. Please.”

“No need.” Catra brushed her off waving her hand. Scorpia’s voice echoed from the door announcing the food is all set on the table, foiled Adora’s plans on keep arguing. “Anyway, you can leave through the greenhouse or join us.” 

“Really? Would it be okay?” Adora’s exhaustion briefly became apparent, grateful for the chance to rest instead of instantly leaving wherever they planned. Yet she apparently had to be sure it was truly acceptable, and not just Catra playing nice. 

Please. As if that could happen.

Bow was already cheering for not skipping Scorpia’s food, Glimmer had it in her to complain anyway because she wanted Adora to eat some mini-muffins from “Tiny Geek ” and Perfuma filled water in a container for the Gladioli after she cut its stems.  
Catra’s smile wordlessly told her she didn’t had much of a choice (Glimmer protests doesn’t count).

Lunch carried the same set of events.

Scorpia admiring the growth of the flowers, Perfuma sharing factoids about why warmth is important for plants as for people, cabinets opened and closed - often lacking any justified purpose - and Catra sat first at the same spot after pouring herself a drink.  
She still remembers this guy she hired once, taking her spot and refused to move under her stare.  
He was fired ten seconds later.

Adora still stood, her friends rummage through the mini fridge debating what to drink. Catra waved to catch Adora’s attention, the cap cast over her glistening skin. She doesn’t like jumping into conclusions, not like she did many times years back. However, witnessing that ghosted stare switching to be dimly cognizant when her attention was required was enough to know she carried heavier shit than a tattered backpack.  
She gestured to the vacant seat in front of her. 

Hesitant, Adora grabbed her rifle to position it safely as she sat down, cheeks flushed.  
“Hey,” Catra offered cold water bottle from the near cooler, set it beside Adora’s closed hand on the table and nodded to her cap.  
“I’m not gonna give you dress code violation.” She settled instead of joking how disrespectful it supposed to be still wearing a cap indoors.  
The soldier might take it too seriously. It was the wise choice of words, clear by how the tension seeped out and Adora allowed herself to unwind, starting with taking the cap off.

Scorpia passed Catra a full plate and the conversation haven’t died throughout their meal.  
Adora released the upper buttons of her tight uniform shirt with the collar no longer pressing against her neck, encouraging her opening up. From questions she must get on repeat whenever she comes home based on how formulated her answers were and sharing a laugh over events she wasn’t part of.  
It propelled sheer of information waiting to be dumped on her from her friends, though, leaving the talkative job primarily to them.

Being the quieter side of the table, the two strangers often found themselves sharing amused glances whenever Bow and Glimmer came up with a different song for tomorrow’s karaoke event, nowhere near finding a common ground.  
“Karaoke?” Adora’s remark somehow managed to be clear as Glimmer demanded they should sing “I believe in the thing called love” by The Darkness because of Bow’s high pitch notes.

“Ugh, don’t start,” she warned as if they had this talk before. Adora chuckled, didn’t seem to mind.  
“I’m being a good friend.”

“It’s a big social sacrifice. I mean, I don’t think I would be able to do it – and I was dragged to Shanti festival three years—” Her tone staggered shortly and yeah, Catra would’ve regret admitting it too. “--on my three-day pass.”

“On who’s cool-reputation is more tainted, you definitely won,” Catra teased, smirked around her cup and downed the last of her drink when Adora gasped in mocking shock, fluttered her eyes at the faux compliment.

“You really think so? I’m honored. Never won anything in my life. Although, Karaoke has a tier of its own.” She added matter-of-factly in unsubtle mutter, then laughed when Catra stared at her looking for counter argument, realized it’s impossible and shrugged in agreement.

“I take it you’re not coming to this fiasco?” Catra quirked an eyebrow and wiped her lower lip with a napkin after taking a bite from her food. 

“I don’t really live nearby, actually.” Adora unscrewed her water bottle, drinking shortly to elaborate as Catra kept looking at her.  
She wasn’t asked, but felt the need to explain herself.  
“All three of us were born and raised and Mystacor , but Bow and Glimmer got into Bright Moon university and moved here.” Another person from Mystacor who didn’t appear to be what she expected. Guess rotten apples can come from anywhere.  
“And the only place I’m really settled at most of the year is at the base in Northern Reach , so no reason moving away.”

“Doesn’t it make your trip extra longer?” If Princess Glitter had a car, why not make Adora’s life easier?  
Adora sensed Catra’s unspoken question, her thumb traced the water drops over her bottle. 

“It does, but I love Bright Moon. Also, Bow couldn’t stop talking about this place and – MOTHER FLIPPING GO-“ Adora jumped in her seat, caused everyone shoot their wide stares at her except Catra and Scorpia, who were too familiar with this reaction. 

Melog jumped next to Catra a moment later, clambered over her arm to stretch and push his head against her face for attention.

His request was denied bluntly since Catra hadn’t finished with her meal, not that it deterred him from asking others. She returning to finish the few bites left in unbothered motion. “He’s a phantom cat. Just ignore him.” she sufficed to Adora who didn’t move, mouth wide open.  
Yeah, the idea of adding bell to Melog’s collar was less appealing everytime it happened. Too damn funny.

“Ignore him?! he’s the cutest thing!” Glimmer happily lifted the cat, giving him all the TLC he insists to have with the grace of his presence.  
What started with Scorpia suggesting to scratch him behind his ear opened the gates of hell, and all the table focused completely on the little black furball.

“You okay there?” Catra chuckled, pushed the empty plate aside. Bow got up from the table, murmured something to Glimmer that replied with a huge grin. “Just for a minute, look at him!”  
Adora was locked on the cat, and if her expression wasn’t filled with the universal wonderment every time a cat did as much as flicking its ear, Catra would be worried about her hand still hovered over her rifle.  
Probably out of reflex to keep it close. 

“He is cute.” She mumbled dumbly. Catra felt her smile curving to be more genuine, surprised herself by thinking the same thing when looking how the soldier’s eyes lighten up. Glimmer hurried to Adora and introduced this package of instant happiness, drew the usual endearment coos. 

“Guys, we need to go before it will get dark,” Bow placed his hand on Adora’s shoulder. Her strokes under Melog’s chin faltered, the steady stare was fixated on him for couple of standstill seconds as something dimmed in her. Then she gathered some will power to drop her hand and move her rifle with her carefully.

“Thank you for the meal.” Instead of replying to Bow, she thanked Scorpia politely, gave Catra appreciative nod and went to take her things.  
Catra sensed the marginally heaviness shifting the atmosphere between her and Bow and rose on her feet, stopping Perfuma who intended do the same while Bow and Glimmer exchanged worried glances. 

“I’ll get her the flowers. Bow, go open the exist door. Remember to disarm the alarm.” Giving out orders always rammed aside deeper layers of tension, gave others something else to focus on rather of dwelling, even if it’s wholly to complain about her bossiness. 

Catra pushed the door ever-so-slightly to colder, bit darker shop. The AC humming filled the silence as the playlist shuffled to a different song.  
Adora stood in front of the unattended counter, her begs still on the ground where her feet were planted.  
She might as well wouldn’t move for a solid minute or two if no one was around.

And because Catra would hate being caught in similar position, she rolled her eyes from her own idea and walked in her place louder than normal (thank god the others couldn’t see her), watched Adora straighten her back and pulled the backpack onto one shoulder, no doubt regretting internally on how fast she picked it up.

“I just have to know,” Moving straight behind the counter, Catra allowed Adora to hoist backpack correctly without being watched.  
“Is Confetti really puts sparkles in her hair? My cat nearly gave me epileptic seizure a week ago after she blinked at him.”

Despite herself, Adora chuckled earnestly, affirming for Catra it’s safe to study her expression as she took her flowers out of the container.  
She seemed fine. For two strangers, it might be best not to push it.  
“Who knows, you two might get along.”

Catra suppressed a cynical laugh into doubtful snort, bundled the flowers with magnolia colored wrapping gently.  
“Sure. Maybe if aliens invade and we would be the only survivors left.” She circled the counter, handed Adora the flowers and a business card she swept between her fingers. Adora took them, her pale hands were warm and callus against Catra’s tan ones.  
“But I guess she’s not all bad. Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Yes Ma’am. Catra,” She amended. “Glimmer might be a bit much at first.. even we had some trouble when we met. But she and Bow are the best.” Her voice trailed a bit at the end and Adora glanced at the flowers instead of facing Catra as she organized her thoughts back in place. 

“I’ll keep it in mind.”  


* * *

The ride to Whispering Woods was silent at the first 10 minutes.  
Glimmer was tight-lipped since they left, pushing the whole baggage onto a tiny suitcase and sitting on it until it will either get shut close to be a ticking bomb for another day or surrender to the pressure and burst wide open with everything scattered around.

Bow tried to break some of the joint discomfort by turning the music. Last time he mistakenly turned the radio on station that played songs suitable to a Memorial Day, then got panicked when Adora didn’t react from the back seat to his mundane questions.

Those kinds of things were barely impactful before. But back then, when he did it a year ago , it was still like an open wound.  
Now it was..

Well.  
Too soon to say it was healing. Maybe hidden more properly under denial that wobbled in Glimmer’s cramped car where the scent of Gladioli was hard to escape.

She still believed what she told Catra. Her friends are the best. They may not understand, but they do try in their own way. The only way they’re familiar with. That’s not their fault they couldn’t see her side as she wanted them to.  
It’s her fault for causing such a mess instead of keeping her emotions in check.

Adora apologized, eventually. She wanted to hear them for the rest of the ride, not the thoughts she was hunted plenty by already.

It was blur at some point. She can’t recall how or when she managed to stand in front of Mara’s clean yet barren of flowers grave and kept standing.  
All she could register was how the Military cemetery was silent this evening.

An exact contrast to what Adora was feeling.


	2. Hello Again, Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes your address isn't your home.  
> Days starting bad aren't always doomed to end as such.  
> Strangers can find familiarity over cold beer,
> 
> And my rhyming game is on point. Just like Netossa and Frosta capability to rap (Don't away run, It's barely mentioned).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few warnings:  
> Incredibly bad parenting, implications of abuse, implications of homophobia, karaoke, Sea Hawk, not enough alcohol.
> 
> Nothing too heavy is detailed and I don't believe it will change in future chapters.  
> In case it will, I'll adjust an option to skip harsher scenes.

Red curtains abruptly pulled aside, clanked noisily over the rod with its steel rings.  
A reflexed grunt was about to disclose Adora before she chocked it down.

With the creak of her bedroom door, Adora shut her eyes that were kept painfully open throughout the night, having the morning glaring behind her lids with the welcoming she always gets. 

“You have ten minutes. It’s nearly seven.”

Then she left as she came.  
Not bothering with civil greeting nor expressing any kind of emotion having her daughter back after nine months of absence .  
Not even putting an effort to spare a glance.

Adora could tell with her eyes closed. She felt that gaze every second for 25 years.

She rose up heavily from the bed, her head was pounding. 

In daylight, she allowed herself to look around at a room that had less than what she owned back at her dorms.  
A small closet and a mirror, all in white. 

Adora felt sudden relief for her friends’ massive texting surge last night, unintentionally distracting her from facing the changes she knew were bound to happen but weren’t disclosed with her prior. The crawl in her chest hasn’t settled since she entered the new, bare room.  
Throughout the night she forced herself to stare at the ceiling instead of noting all the things she’ll never see again.

 _A small loss compered to the one that lead to this,_ Adora kept thinking, angry for not understanding it had to be done.

Her bags were hidden under the bed considering she was running on fumes and elected to use her lingering energy to peel off her uniform.  
In hindsight it was preferable, doing so to avoid at all cost being greeted with harsh disapproval of how ungrateful she is having her things ruining the strict assortment pattern that was made _just for her_ , how is she not ashamed to contempt her uniform, her family’s name by not getting over herself and neatly unpack everything as she should. How dare she set a step in with boots that aren’t clean enough, regardless spending an hour and half on the train back doing just that, ignoring her fingers getting black from cream polish and red from brushing vigorously.

It was considerably worse than a brisk reminder of her err not being already awake, by the door – saluting and handing a Valor of Honor. 

But, it hadn’t felt like a better choice, if to be honest. 

Adora refrained from checking herself in the mirror and stepped into the bathroom, took off her underwear – hissed a curse when she unclasped the bra she slept with for weeks. The shower’s cold water sobered her up.  
Having her hair down and loose was a nice feeling she could sink into, as the smell of Gladioli faintly reached her nose again.

It’s the small reminder of Mara that gave her another dose of strength.

* * *

“God morgon, Moder.”  
Adora has to be the bigger person. She is not the only one who’s grieving.  
Even if her mother showed a perfect portray of the contrary. 

She hated the amount of bravery she had to gather to step into thei- her mother’s dining room, warning alarms in her head compulsively cautioned to control her words and sustain composed tone.  
Her mother already sat at the head of the table with her breakfast almost finished, reading the newspaper. 

Another article about the Horde attempts to invade, read with Hope’s undivided attention.

Is the article mentions the loss they had two weeks ago? The acute food supply shortage when they remained posted overtime near Fright Zone area and got cornered because of their commander’s inflated ego and personal vendetta?  
Will she care or skimp over if the names of the dead soldiers that were 5 years younger than Adora were written there, offhandedly?

Will she care of her own--  
_Breathe. Calm down._ Adora did her best not to cause cracks of the persona her mother expected to see, because who would want a weak daughter who couldn’t collect herself shortly after the break of day?

The maid, Matilda, approached with small steps, tray in her hands.  
Hope raised her hand to stop her. A routine that Matilda seemed nervous to be part of every time. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Adora?” 

Adora double checked she can do it without her hands shaking; she handed over a small envelope from her back pocket.  
Hope folded the newspaper upon hearing the envelope on the marble table, placed it aside to validate the check, which contained great bites from Adora’s two last paychecks, readied to cover exactly one month of rent under her roof. 

“Very well.” She motioned Matilda to serve the breakfast and stood up quietly, her off-white robe sway heavily around her as she scrutinized Adora shortly.  
“Fix your hair. We have guests today.”

Adora’s appetite vanished.

* * *

Around noon, Catra’s phone vibrated on the floor. She would’ve missed it if she hadn’t known that no, Melog wasn’t broken, he just had this weird habit laying on top he her phone with his cheek pressed against the blinking screen. 

This small quirk caused endless calls to be answered with no respond from the receiving end or get flatly declined. The first time she heard Scorpia’s muffled confusion out of nowhere was the time Catra had a tiny stroke, believing that she overworked so hard her employees colonized echoing space in her head. Ever since, Perfuma made Catra take a day off once a week. 

“Move away, fatty,” Catra shooed him with a light nudge of her wet feet, towel still held around her body. Melog meowed in complaint when she pushed her damp hair back that dripped on his fur and finally moved away. 

Again, not the person she expected to have a phone call from.

Bow had change of plans and announced _they_ will arrive sooner. He was replied with silence because she knew who is plus-one is.  
“..I will bring alcohol.” That’s more like it.

While being alone, Catra dedicated her spare time concealing the irrelevant part of the shop with partition gate, left behind it all the unnecessary tables and chairs from the library and locked the bookcases. Those friends Scorpia invited weren’t some strangers (though she had a bad habit making friends with just about anyone), still, Catra learned from past experiences some of them were too keen to touch, lift and _sniff_ whatever their hands could reach, especially with alcohol in their systems. One of them managed to set a small fire from thin air and Catra would’ve kill him if she hadn’t switched their water hose on full force and sprayed the dude’s shitty mustache for a good minute until it ended up bristly and frizzy. 

He had to shave it off.

Good times.

Hours after dawn, on a quiet street where businesses were closed, her door opened to their last guest.  
They laughed heatedly on the sofa as “Ice, Ice Baby” started, having Netossa and Frosta unashamedly pulling sunglasses and bad rapping.

* * *

Adora hurried out through the balcony doors, smoothed her red dress and glanced back to assure again she was out of sight.  
Her breath was caught up in her chest as she answered the call. 

“Adora.” 

She bit her lip hard to hold the wave of emotions, threaten to toss her out of balance.  
For nine months she wasn’t able to hear his voice, let alone get a text message.  
And there her brother was. Still waiting for her to come back safely.

“Adam,” Her voice cracked without her permission. _Don’t cry, don’t you dare to cry_. She covered her mouth immediately to collect herself at once. If their mother will find out – if she will see Adora reactions straying from what she ordered..  
Her back twitched like a muscle memory from the thought.

Adam quietly allowed her to have a few.  
“By how long it took you to pick up I guess you’re at _her_ place.” Adam concluded softly. “Again.” He added bitterly, more to himself, clearly held back from saying what she already heard before and choose not to pick at a topic that frequently ended all the same.  
“I miss you. Are you okay? I mean.. You aren’t hurt anywhere, right? Is your ponytail still intact?”

“Everything’s fine.” She affirmed with teary chuckle, checked over her shoulder again and wiped the corner of her eye.  
“I couldn’t stay in Bright Moon.” Adora breathed in crushing tone that erased her brief smile. “She wanted me to come today and.. present me.” The words ripped between her gritted teeth. 

Another silence followed and she already could picture Adam pacing around the fire escape platform of his shoebox-sized apartment, searching how to convey his hatred and frustration when there are just not enough words to grasp.  
“Fuck.” He mumbled instead sharply. The sound of a lighter distracted her for a moment. “Don’t say anything.” Adam added not unkindly, already sensed what his twin sister was about to say. 

She didn’t. This small remainder of their dynamic made her smile fondly, so she let it slide.

“I guess you.. I mean, fuck, I can’t think right now. Shit.” His voice broke. He always cursed often in jumbled sentences when he was really mad.  
Adora wanted to assure him she’s fine, but then he sniffled in less anger. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

Adora swallowed thickly her anxiety and formed a plan. They have talked for too long, Hope probably noticed by now.  
“I will talk to you soon.”

“Ado-“  
She hung up, her brows twitched when it physically felt awful doing so. _I had to_. Adora reasoned, tighten her hold on the balcony’s railing knowing what was about to happen next. She felt it.

“Is everything okay?” A hand rested on the small of her back, claiming ownership with the same mannerism he had since he dominatingly entered Hope’s manor; all the while Adora never could walk in and feel at home.  
Heaps of possessiveness fogged the place tonight, leading her to a false sense of belonging her mother expected her to desperately run towards, where there are no real doors left to open. 

If there are no doors, there’s always the balcony.. 

“Miss Grayskull.”

Adora smiled politely (while containing a strong urge breaking his arm) and went back inside silently.  
She hadn’t acknowledged him for the rest of the evening, busy formalizing bad plans.

* * *

Around the tenth song, with everyone proven to be losers that can’t hold their drinks (Glimmer admittedly surprised her being a worthy opponent, with Acai Grey Goose nonetheless) and nearly getting hauled into crowed surfing by the said losers to sing for them, Catra escaped back to her apartment.

despite all that mess,  
It was a nice evening.

Cheers and laughter carried out from downstairs as another song they sang twice got another encore. Catra didn’t mind it from her balcony, leaning on the railing with a cold beer bottle dangled from her hand, humming along.  
What she did mind is the stranger approaching to her shop from the empty road, carrying something bulky and their hand.  
Psh. And Scorpia still thinks they don’t need the baseball bat laying at her office’s cabinet. 

Catra had to squint – she had decent amount of drinks, after all – then called.  
“Need some help?”

The person lifted their - her head, the hat she wore raised to reveal her face.  
“Adora?” Catra mumbled to herself, straightened up to see if it is really her. 

“Uh, hey.” She looked out of breath, waved awkwardly and opened her mouth again. But Catra signaled with the lift of a finger to wait and stepped back in. Melog, that was laying by her feet, repositioned and resumed his nap. 

Catra didn’t have to be stealthy on her way down or careful with her loud gate between the floors. The drunk-ass idiots were deeply immersed singing “Star Maps” by Aly & AJ, they wouldn’t notice shit even if Catra would unplug the speakers and turn off the screen.  
Their screams abusing the environment were insanely deafening as it is. 

She disarmed the alarm and unlocked the door, stared at Adora with blank stare asking if she really want to be part of it.

In quick glance, perhaps whatever she was running from was far worse.  
Adora tried to steady the heaviness in her lungs, wore small smile. Her stance gave Catra the impression she was ready to walk away, presume to be told so. “I know it wasn’t an invitation yesterday, and it’s kinda rude to drop by at – oh, wow,” Surprised by the time, Adora flicked her wrist back to cover the watch under her jacket’s sleeve, undoubtably loading in her brain bombarding explanations. 

“Wanna go upstairs?” Catra offered before this utter disaster in a shape of a person managed to splutter unneeded apologizes.  
“I don’t think they have water there. And the alcohol is like, catholic-school-prom-night level.” After she and Glimmer finished all the good stuff, that is.

Adora smile soften, finally her lungs didn’t hurt when she said, “Yes, I’d love to.”

* * *

Expectations always appeared to be bigger of what was established in advance, like misleading fine print in a devil’s contract. 

Her mother’s expectations from her to be beneficial trophy that regularly needed to be shined, because one day’s accomplishment is tomorrow’s humiliating failure.  
The army expectations to improve under inhuman conditions and do it _quietly_.  
Her own confidential, deepest wished expectations which she already refused to acknowledge, grew up sealing them under her pillow and deeming them to be useless, childish dreams. 

She didn’t expect Catra to invite her in so easily. Adora walked miles after catching the last bus, praying she won’t get kicked out though it was reasonable possibility, hence the warm eight-pack she bought as potential bargain.  
With it being put aside, literally – “Heineken? Really? Let me give you some real beer,” – Catra allowed Adora feel comfortable taking her jacket off, putting her hair down and relax her shoulders.  
Both of them settled into butterfly canvas chairs with the view of slow ocean waves sending salty scent, a warm breeze and a cat by their feet. 

Catra was natural at holding conversations, didn’t pressure when silence flurried sometimes in between.  
She didn’t ask. Only offered. 

It was hard finding where to drop an explanation why she hurried back to Bright Moon. Their tones were light and the topics were fun to have in a way Adora hadn’t had in years, so she didn’t dare to break the spell.

“You can’t be serious,” Adora laughed, her second almost empty beer in her hands. “You want to tell me that you wouldn’t do the same and take a picture? They are _horses!_ ” 

“Okay, but to be fair you just shot that guy in the leg, then flipped your phone out-“

“He wanted to shoot the hostler!”

Catra gave that look since it’s clearly wasn’t her point, then quirked an eyebrow and amused grin.  
“But y’know, that hostler-guy did name the horse Swift Wind,” When she raised her beer to drink, Adora gasped in disbelief of what Catra was about to imply and smacked her shoulder. They couldn’t hold their laughter.  
“I’m just saying! He deserves to be punished too and holy shit you’re strong, what the fuck,”

Adora shifted a bit, guilt clogged her throat and all she could muster was airy chuckle with quick apology, but Catra all of a sudden shushed her, attention drawn to someplace else.  
“Did you hear that?” She whispered. By her smile, it’s not something dangerous and Adora’s combat reflexes rested while Catra’s fingers brushed against her arm, making her to listen in too. It was so swift yet easy movement, Adora didn’t flinched like she usually would. 

“Yes. I believe the buzzing comes from your drunken brain, trying to revive the last two cells-” Adora got her payback by being slapped lightly on her forearm. _Cute_. 

“No, dummy. The quiet.” Catra smile widen and she leaned back contently. “I think the kids finally fell asleep, darling.”

“I knew giving kids alcohol will pay off eventually.” Adora nodded and Catra laughed before downing her drink. 

The touch still lingered on Adora’s skin, and it might be her brain that is buzzing because from how she was reading the room, this night might not end so bad. She wasn’t sure, she never is. Still, the mixture of being both tipsy and momentarily brave, Adora chanced to study Catra’s mismatch eyes- _ah. Heterochromia is kind of pretty_ and she stared at her back. And _smiled_. That’s.. what should she say? 

Catra’s smile grow slightly, reaching her pretty eyes. 

When Adora finally decided to speak, Catra looked away. Oh. Okay.  
_Ugh, how much did I drink? I became such a light-weight.._

“I think it’s my phone. Wait a sec.” She got up and went back in, leaving Adora with slurred thoughts and her cat.  
Who was watching her. 

Definitely judging. 

“Hey. It’s not like- I didn’t try to do anything, okay?” He still peered and Adora couldn’t take it. She rubbed his stomach and he curled around it, attempting to bite her with feral malice the cat clearly didn’t had in him.

“Bullying already?” Catra slacked back onto her seat with heavy sigh, crossed her legs. 

“I’d never.”

“I was talking to him.” Catra pulled Melog’s ear like a warning. “Sorry about that. My husband remembered to pick up his phone after two days of radio silence. I decided to be good wife and add some guilt to his trip with a nice decline.”

And Adora remembered she’s the dumbest gay ever. _Of course she’s taken_. Mentally kicking herself, Adora tried not to grimace from embarrassment. She took this woman kindness thinking it’s a chance to forget the world for a while. Beer can be held accountable for idiotic lapse of assumptions, right?  
_I wish. But no_.

“Husband, huh?” She chuckled dumbly, felt very drained all at once.

Catra met her eyes. Was she mad from what her tone could insinuate?  
Nope, she had that cute smile on her face, still mildly testing Melog’s endurance to her pulling his ears or cheek.  
But Catra gave up before him, retract her hand from between his small fangs, shortly stroked his head and fell back to her chair.

When she thought she might not get an answer, Catra’s voice had different notes of temperate.

“I’m not from here, either.” Catra pressed her thumb against her fingers to crack her top knuckles, looked at the waves swayed towards the shore.  
“Guillermo and I moved to Bright Moon when I was 19.”

“Where from?” Adora’s eyes were trained on her profile, trying to catch cues from her impassive expression if they were about to step into uneasy territory.  
And they did.

“South Velvet Glove .” Catra replied quietly, and against any rational Adora was left with, her hands gripped her bottle tighter, her heart stopped in panic. “It ain’t something to admit out loud, I know- ..Are you okay?”

“I- I’m,” On autopilot and years of practice, Adora poised the growing panic enough to stand up stiffly and arrange some degree of courtesy.  
“Thank you, but I should go. It’s getting late and-“

“Adora, I’m not like them,” Catra was quick to figure the problem and jumped to her feet in front of the soldier.  
The internalized screams to get out must have reached all the way to her because she had the decency to look worried when Adora took half a step back. Catra lifted her hands as reassurance she’s not going to try anything.  
“There are reasons why I’m not there anymore. I’m _not_ like them. Plus, do you really think Scorpia or Perfuma would have a job here if I were?”

“In Bright Moon It’s illegal to discrimen- yeah, okay, shut up.” Adora crossed her arms at Catra’s deadpanned stare.  
Adora couldn’t let go her grip from her own arms, knew it’s evident she still wants to leave. That she is scared.  
It was beyond rude, but it was her first full day out of the base and honestly, the civilian grass wasn’t any greener.  
Coming back always made her feel like she forgetting progressively each time how to function as a person, a normal one, without all the baggage and the distrust.

She’s in luck, however. A well put-together, cultivated example of top citizen was screaming at the top of his lungs “Adventure!!!”, sprinting down the dark road, butt naked, right out from Catra’s shop.

“Not again..” Catra pinched the bridge of her nose. _Again? What??_  
He was chased by two girls that complained being too drunk doing this crap and she spotted Bow running after the man with something to wear.

Well, he had a headband. What more does Bow wants?

Catra left Adora to gaze the apparently repeated catastrophe, took the empty bottles as she walked into her living room. 

Adora was torn. The naked guy got tackled near the shore and yelled unintelligible cries of horror; The words “sand” and “ass-crack” were the least vague ones, unfortunately.  
Yet, on the other hand, Catra disappeared from view without a word.

“Uh..” _I obviously offended her. Great job, idiot._  
She stayed in her place and rubbed her forehead thinking of another plan. She had enough for one night in a crappy motel, then maybe Adam will lend her some for a ride back.. 

“You can take the bed,” Catra returned, made Adora jump a little. She wore a different, worn-out shirt, her messy brown hair was down and reached slightly past her revealed shoulder.  
When she stretched the black hair tie from her wrist and picked her hair back up, Catra’s flat stomach came to view -- and Adora slapped her gaze to avert anywhere but, wishing she could drink more beyond remembering the image. 

She must’ve come out as the creepiest idiot alive. The whole shameful package right before a nice, married, possibly religious woman.  
Adora’s only salvation was if she will disappear into time and space portal out of the blue. _Now will be great, thanks_. 

“Adora.” 

She couldn’t look at her. _Why can’t I just leave?  
I can’t breathe.. It was such a stupid idea—_

“Adora.” Her eyes widen. Did Catra just flicked her on the forehead? What the hell?  
“Dude. Leave your inner torments for tomorrow, ‘kay? Your eyes worse than Per’s after she drinks her.. ‘special herbs.” She added air quotes with her fingers. “Spear me your noble excuses. No, you can’t sleep on the coach and no, you can’t leave at this late hour. I don’t want to hear anything other then ‘good night, my gracious host whom lend me her honorable, super cozy bed’.”

“..’Gracious host’?” Damn, her lips worked on their own, gravitated into a smile whenever that bossy girl worked her dark magic.  
“Your beer sucked, are you kidding me?”

“Your face suck.”

“..Yeah. It’s normally appreciated,” She said before anyone could push her off the balcony, yet Catra laughed and led Adora to her the room, again dealt incredibly easy with what was thrown at her – so don’t put blame on Adora for having fun exchanging horrible jokes like Catra was an old friend. A type of friend she never had. 

Adora glanced at Catra’s hand around her wrist.  
A friend? If it will be acceptable, she would love to try.  
It didn’t feel like consolation prize for not having another meaningless sex, it was cinders of warm hope she neglected. 

She told Catra good night as she was instructed to – forgetting half of the script and used some artistic freedom to replace words like _honorable_ to _questionable_ and asked how many of her body parts are expect to be sold on the black market until tomorrow morning while she’s “asleep”.  
Also, because she has a bad knee so maybe Catra should take her right one instead or consider giving discounts. 

It might create some difficulties with her army career, but as long she’ll be able to get up at 4 am, they’re good.

The pillow at her face was reasonable response, Adora decided.  
Melog payed a visit an hour later when she couldn’t hold her eyes open, rested on the softest bed and Lavender scented sheets. 

Catra’s eyes were blue and hazel.  
It was a good night.

**Author's Note:**

> Will update every Monday and that's.. not a promise, but it's something!
> 
> Let me know what you think and come visit me on my baby tumblr page.  
> [ right here ](https://veryweirdyes.tumblr.com)


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